Into The West
by Golden Nekko
Summary: Meow! This is the story of a girl who unexpectedly found her way into Middle Earth. How she did that I will leave up to you to find out. What do you mean, "How do I do that?" Do I have to do EVERYTHING myself? Just read the darn story! DUH! Meow!
1. Poetic Prologue

**Into The West**  
  
_By Golden Nekko_  
  
**_Prologue:_  
**  
_The day I heard the song, I knew it was my destiny to go. Go where? I'll know when I get there. I can see my destiny before me across a distant shore. Soon I will have come to my journey's end. But for now, I must keep going. Going where?  
  
Into the West.  
  
The day I saw his face, I knew it was my destiny to pursue him. Pursue who? I'll know when I meet him. I can see him standing on that distant shore. Soon we will have come to our journey's end. But for now, we must keep going. Going where?  
  
Into the West.  
  
The day I knew my name, I knew it was my destiny to seek the truth. What truth? I'll know when I find it. I can hear the ones who came before—they are calling, calling from across that distant shore. But for now I must keep going. Going where?  
  
Into the West. _

Meow! Sorry that the prologue is short again. I promise the chapters will be super long! Meow!


	2. One Summer Day

Into The West  
  
By Golden Nekko  
  
Hey there, GN here! I hope I didn't make you annoyed with the poetic prologue and how short it was. Anyhow, I have just returned from a session of researching the LOTR books for ideas and important information that I might need for later chapters in this story. And now I am ready to begin!  
  
  
  
Chapter One: One Summer Day  
  
It was a hot sticky day in July. Most people escaped the heat by taking refuge in their homes with the air condition on full blast. Only a total nutcase would be out in this heat. The nutcase I am speaking of is none other than Willow Bernstein. Willow was no average teenaged girl, however.  
  
Willow may have looked average, with long and straight brown hair and hazel eyes. But she sure didn't act normally. Willow wore blue jeans and a frumpy, 100% cotton t-shirt everywhere she went. On her feet were red converse sneakers that were laced up with licorice ropes, just in case she was hungry. She always carried a spare in her blue jansport backpack which she always kept nearby. Inside the backpack were several notebooks and pads of paper, pens, pencils, art supplies, and her most favorite possession in the entire world: a book.  
  
This book was entitled, The Lord of the Rings. Willow had read it countless times. So many, in fact, that she had lost count after a year. Hence, the word, "countless". Its pages were tattered and torn in a few places, and taped up in the corners where the paperback cover had nearly ripped clear off the spine. You could no longer read the words written on the spine of the book, as it was bent and shabby like the rest of it. But this book was loved by its owner, no matter how damaged.  
  
The book is the reason why this whole adventure began...  
  
Willow was only outside because she was trying to hide her "precious"--as she liked to call it, in the same manner as a character from the book--from her mother. Mrs. Bernstein wanted to throw the old relic into the garbage and thus had driven Willow out of the house, the latter in fear of losing her most prized possession. Willow refused to throw the book away, even when her mother promised to purchase her a brand-spanking-new hard-cover copy with the picture of her favorite character on the front.  
  
Willow had instead thrown a tantrum like a child and ran outside screaming, "I don't want another book! I like this one! You can't make me get rid of my precious!"  
  
Mrs. Bernstein, furious at her daughter's behavior, had locked Willow outside. "That'll teach her to throw tantrums..." she had muttered as she locked the door with a sharp click. "She can smolder outside in the heat until she comes to her senses... Precious indeed! Humph!"  
  
Willow, on the other hand, was oblivious to the fact that she had been locked out. In fact, she was still running by this time. She was running down the street, gasping for breath as the heat made it harder to breathe while sprinting, still clutching the book to her chest.  
  
Willow didn't realize she was nearly farther from home than she'd ever been without a bicycle until she came to Park Grove. Park Grove was an old, abandoned park with run-down buildings and rusty playground equipment. The thing about this park was, in its entirety, that it was where the Sharp- Shirts hung out.  
  
The Sharp-Shirts were a gang like no other. Now, when I tell you this fact, I don't mean that they were bigger than any other gang, or that they were meaner than any other gang, I mean that they're... different. The Sharp- Shirts were a stuck-up, snobby, rich group of boys who wore suits rather than the stereotypical leather jackets and such. They were bullies that relied on gossip, blackmail, and other tactics that were more hurtful than guns and knives.  
  
No one was safe from their ridicule. Not even their own kind.  
  
Willow had slowed her pace by now, and was being more wary of where she went and how she moved about the playground. One wrong move and she could betray herself to the Sharp-Shirts and they'd find her in a snap.  
  
She sat down on the swing set to catch her breath, a fatal mistake, because the smallest of the Sharp-Shirts, Winston, was eavesdropping on her, watching her every move.  
  
Winston was the rat of the group. He would conceal himself in anything from trashcans to topiary in order to get information to the gang. He had a high nasally voice which squeaked when he laughed. His hair was yellow like straw and greasy like oil. His eyes were watery blue and his nose was flat, because it had been broken several times in street fights. He had come to be a Sharp-Shirt because the others were afraid of him. They were afraid he would snitch on them rather than the other kids. At this particular moment in time, Winston was hiding underneath a slide adjacent to the swings. He watched his prey like a hawk, waiting for some useful information to use against Willow.  
  
"Don't worry, my precious... Mother will not take you from us." Willow said in a mocking impression of a certain character from her book. She chuckled at how adeptly she could imitate any character from the book. She stroked its tattered spine lovingly, continuing her impression.  
  
Winston began to think that Willow was crazy. This could be very useful for his gang. Very useful indeed.  
  
"Did you find us any information?" Gary asked.  
  
"Yup. Willow's out there on the swing set talking to herself. She's crazy! She's cradling a book in her arms like it was a baby and calling it 'my precious'. It's very funny." replied Winston.  
  
Gary was the leader of the gang. He had brown hair that was slicked back and wore a nice, cream colored suit. He always had a tootsie pop in his mouth. He looked almost like the leader of a mafia gang, which he basically was, except for the fact that they were children and didn't blow things up like in the movies. He was very short. Shorter than anyone else in the gang but he could still hurt you with his vast encyclopedia of insults. "Good. Let's go make a small girl cry..." he said as he lead the gang out of their clubhouse and over to the swings.  
  
Willow saw a shadow casting over her. When she looked up, she saw Harold, a huge boy with a round belly and a shaved head. He wore a black suit and a white handkerchief hung out of the breast pocket. He was known for being the bulk of the gang.  
  
"Hello Harold." Willow said coolly. "Do you need some money to buy another hamburger?"  
  
"Shut up." He said. "Mister Gary would like to do business with you."  
  
"Oh okay. How much money does a booster seat cost these days?" Willow mocked.  
  
Winston, Gary, and his two bodyguards appeared at the top of the slide. In their hands, they held Willow's book!  
  
"How did you get that? Give it back!" shouted Willow, jumping up. "Gimme my book!"  
  
"I took it when you weren't lookin'." said Winston in his annoying voice. "Come up here an' get your precious back. Hehehe!"  
  
"Shut up! Leave the talking to me and our victim." snapped Gary.  
  
"Yes, sir." whined Winston.  
  
"Give me the book back." growled Willow.  
  
"No way! This is perfect for lining my birdcage with." smirked Gary taking the book from Winston.  
  
Willow gasped, "You wouldn't!"  
  
"Oh, but I would."  
  
"Give it back. Now."  
  
"Make me."  
  
Willow jumped up the slide in a single bound and grabbed one side of the book. It made a crackling noise from the stress of being pulled in two directions. The two children pulled their sides of the book back and forth. Neither would let their adversary win.  
  
Riiiiip!  
  
The book suddenly gave way and tore completely in two. The Sharp-Shirts had achieved their goal. They dropped the pages and the cover in a flurrying pile on the sand and ran off laughing.  
  
Willow picked up the pieces of her ruined book and tried to put them in an organized pile. Seeing that it was beyond repair, she let out a long, loud howl, "PRECIOUS IS LOOOOOST!" She then broke down into tears.  
  
The Sharp-Shirts, having escaped, would get payback fairly soon...  
  
  
  
MEOW!! Well, did ya like that? I sure did! It was very entertaining to write. Send me some reviews and I will share my catnip with you. MEOW!!


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